A Fulfilled Desire
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: While the Rohirrim prepare to leave Edoras, Aragorn sees that a certain desire has come to be.


Disclaimer: _The Lord of the Rings_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.

* * *

A Fulfilled Desire

Aragorn enters the chamber and steps out of the way as two servants, carrying a large trunk between them, pass him. He watches maids packing items in chests before his gaze wanders beyond them, to _her_.

For a moment his breath catches in his throat as he is surprised at seeing her. Unexplainably his heart starts pounding, and a rare feeling of nervousness comes over him.

She unsheathes a sword and runs her palm down along the flat of the blade. He cannot help but stare, a wave of emotion flooding him as long-ago memories once forgotten return to him. Of a child curious to know if women of Rohan could wield a blade. Of a child whose eyes had lighted at knowing her aunt had been among them. Of a child determined to become a shieldmaiden someday.

Of a child who is now grown up and swings her sword with trained, knowing hands.

Aragorn continues to watch, transfixed, as her long, straight, golden hair flies about her as she turns. Slowly, he unsheathes his long dagger and, half unaware of what he is doing, walks on shaky legs toward Eowyn, her back to him.

Eowyn suddenly spins around; his dagger is already up, and the two blades clash against each other. Her eyes widen in surprise at encountering him. Her expression is one of momentary confusion as she wonders at his seeming challenge; then her face becomes stern and expectant.

"You have some skill with a blade," Aragorn says softly, calmly, hoping his face gives nothing away, after studying her for a moment.

Fire flashes in her eyes, as though suspecting his words to contain a hidden insult. Without a word, she suddenly swings her blade down and around, bringing it an inch or two from Aragorn's neck, catching him off guard. He is unable to disguise his surprise and simply holds his dagger up for a moment. Neither one speaks nor moves but only holds the other's gaze, waiting. Slowly, with a silent sigh Aragorn brings his dagger down to his side. Eowyn breaks the eye contact between them, and she returns to a chest to put away her weapon.

"Women of this country learned long ago," she speaks at last, "those without swords can still die upon them."

A shiver runs down the ranger's spine at hearing these words spoken so coolly, without emotion. And his heart aches for her.

"I fear neither death nor pain," she states firmly.

Aragorn hesitates only a moment before asking, "What do you fear, my Lady?"

He senses her surprise at his question, at the sincerity in his voice, but her eyes do not wither from his as she straightens from putting the sword in the chest. She replies in a voice filled with quiet passion that trembles slightly:

"A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age except them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire." She turns away from him.

Some of the heaviness lifts off Aragorn's shoulders as a wave of respect comes over him that she should open herself so much to him, a stranger in her eyes. He understands her fear, for she had been unable to protect her uncle from the evil that slowly trapped him and could only watch helplessly as Rohan crumbled before her eyes. This then would be her redemption to her king and country: to defend them, to be allowed to wield her sword freely and proudly. Her fear, he believed, would not come to pass.

"You are a daughter of kings. A Shieldmaiden of Rohan," he replies.

Eowyn turns toward him again. Their eyes lock. Aragorn sheathes his dagger without taking his gaze from her, assuring her he is not secretly mocking her, but understands her.

"I do not think that will be your fate," the words are almost a whisper.

Eowyn stares at him, silent in amazement at receiving these comforting words. Her face softens. For a moment, Aragorn glimpses in her face something akin to how young Eowyn would look at him sometimes. Perhaps the child is not completely gone as he first feared. Hope rises in him.

Without a word, he nods his head respectfully to the young lady, his eyes briefly drawn to the Evenstar which sparkles in the light. He watches Eowyn for a moment more before gracefully turning and leaves the chamber. His face becomes troubled, however, once he no longer feels her eyes on him, and he rests his hand on the pendant round his neck.

THE END


End file.
